


maybe we could meet

by pallene



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Flirting, F/F, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallene/pseuds/pallene
Summary: Ana is delighted to learn that Zarya takes the same approach to eating out women as she does to everything else: serious dedication and overwhelming competency.





	maybe we could meet

It's been a while since Ana needed to flirt.

Sure, she's been known to indulge in some light-hearted teasing on occasion but mostly in situations where both parties already knew how the night would end. It's been years (decades, if she's honest) since she actually had to flirt to gauge interest.

It's fair to say she's a little rusty.

She's been stationed at a small military base outside Miryuga for almost a week, helping Lieutenant Ilyishna get an elite core of Russian snipers into shape. It took a day or so for Ana herself to get comfortable with spotting targets amid the Siberian snow but after finding her groove, she's pleased with the progress that the snipers are making.

However, she's less pleased with the lack of progress she's making with her desired target.

She'd first seen Sergeant Zaryanova in the break room, handily demolishing her superior in an arm-wrestling contest. Ana vaguely remembered her from the buzz before the world championships, before Zaryanova joined the fight against the omnics, but the hype hadn't done her justice. She was tall and broad, with a physique which spoke of years of discipline and dedication and a grin almost as bright as her hair.

Ana couldn't decide which aspect she found most attractive: Zaryanova's easy confidence or the fact that her biceps were wider than Ana's thighs.

Unfortunately for Ana's libido, this was the Russian Defense Force, not Overwatch, and her brief conversation with Zaryanova at supper was not enough to make her intentions clear. Even her pointed attendance at Zaryanova's next sparring session was met with nothing but a polite greeting, and so Ana decided it was necessary to step up her game. 

Which is how she found herself up in a sniper's perch on a bitterly cold morning, waiting for her least promising student to hit a distant target.

"Close, Vitali," Ana lied as the latest bullet went wide. "Take it slower. Like we practised -- take more of a lead on the target."

"More of a lead," Vitali repeated. "Okay. I can do it."

"Take your time," Ana said. "Watch your breathing. Get comfortable with the wind before you start aiming."

Vitali nodded solemnly, adjusting the rifle on his shoulder, and Ana took advantage of the lull to peer over the edge of the tower. Zaryanova and Ilyishna were moments away, just skirting the outside of the armory, and as Vitali lined himself up with the target, Ana lined herself up to take her own shot.

"When you're ready," Ana said. "There's no rush."

"I've got it," Vitali said. "Three, two, one-"

The sound of the shot is muffled by the thick snow around them and Ana takes her attention away from Zaryanova long enough to see it sail home. Vitali pumps his fist in triumph and Ana smiles as she stands and pats him on the shoulder. "Nice job. You did-"

She loses her balance off the side of the tower before she can finish speaking. She feigns a shout as she falls, braced for the impact into the snow, but she hides a smile when she finds herself caught by a pair of strong arms before she tips into the slush. 

"Captain Amari! Are you all right?" 

There's concern in Zaryanova's voice. Ana's just flattered that she remembered her name. 

"Yes, I'm fine," Ana says, patting Zaryanova on the (very strong) arm but not making any real effort to dismount. "I think the altitude just got to me. I was lucky you were walking by when you did."

She doesn't miss Ilyishna's smirk when she says from behind Zaryanova, "How fortunate."

Ana ignores her in favour of bracing herself against Zaryanova as she sets her down. "You have, ah, excellent reflexes, Sergeant Zaryanova. Have you had firearms training?"

Zaryanova looks almost bashful when she shrugs. "I am capable with firearms but I prefer the particle cannon."

"Ah, yes. I saw you training with that." Ana's tongue darts out to lick her lips. It's not her most subtle effort. "It's quite a weapon. I take it I can't interest you in a sniper rifle instead?"

Zaryanova smiles, even as she shakes her head. "I find sniping impressive," she says, "but we have many talented snipers. There are not many of us who can wield the particle cannon, so I wish to serve where I am most effective."

Ana pointedly does not suggest where else Zaryanova can serve and settles for a nod instead. "You do seem to be very effective. I'll let you get back to your day, Sergeant. Who knows, perhaps we will have the opportunity to train together in future."

Zaryanova gives her a polite nod. "I would be honored, Captain. Stay safe."

Satisfied that Ana is now upright again, Zaryanova heads back to the training facility. Ana meets Ilyishna's gaze as Ilyishna echoes with a smirk, "'You do seem to be very effective'?"

"Shut up, Ilya."

Ilyishna laughs, giving Ana a playful elbow to the side as she passes. "Good luck, Amari. You'll need it."

**+++**

The rest of the day passes interminably slowly. If this were Overwatch, Ana would've been bent over the nearest surface before she even finished asking if the other person was interested but, tragically, she is in Russia and even launching herself out of sniper towers like a (lethal, sniper-trained) school girl with a crush is not providing results as fast as she would like.

And so she does what any self-respecting adult woman would do in this situation: goes to watch Zaryanova train, so that at least she has some high quality material for her imagination to work through during a night alone in her bunk.

She gets thirty minutes in on the cross-trainer first -- she doesn't want to seem _too_ obvious, after all -- but once Zaryanova heads to the weights, Ana's attention is anywhere but her own machine.

Zaryanova somehow looks taller out of her uniform, dressed in an RDF tee that barely contains her biceps and shorts that cling to her thighs and ass in a way Ana deeply appreciates. She's as relaxed and confident as ever, calling out words of encouragement to her colleagues lifting weights around her, before grabbing a couple of standalone weights and starting her own workout. 

Somehow it's both better and worse than Ana could have anticipated.

Rationally Ana knows that watching her lift dumbbells and kettlebells that would cripple a lesser woman was to be expected but as Zaryanova curls her biceps again and again and again, Ana loses her ability to speak. She's never felt the urge to ride someone's arm but when Zaryanova hefts a dumbbell up by her head, muscles straining against her t-shirt, Ana decides she's wasted her life by never achieving this goal.

A small crowd gathers when Zaryanova moves on to the bench press. She settles herself easily beneath the barbell, checking the weights and then curling her hands around the bar, and Ana considers how viable it would be to slip into a fugue state and take the bar's place.

(Verdict: not viable; likely to result in embarrassment, arrest, no orgasm.)

If Ana doesn't quite stifle a longing sigh when Zaryanova begins her bench presses, then she's not alone. At least sixty percent of the watching crowd seems fuelled by lustful admiration at this point, with the remaining forty motivated by more platonic admiration. 

Despite having good reason to call HR on all of them, Zaryanova seems unconcerned by the attention, focusing only on her workout. She greets her colleagues, chatting briefly to them in Russian as they pass by, but based on her steely concentration, Ana can understand how she became so accomplished.

By the time she comes to the warmdown, the crowd has thinned, leaving only Ana and a couple of other soldiers making use of the weights. Ana moves to lean against the wall, wiping at her forehead with the towel and giving Zaryanova an approving nod when she sets the last weights down. "Nice form."

Zaryanova smiles in surprise as she wipes the chalk off her hands. "You lift?"

Ana shrugs. "I'm more of an informed observer. It was a pity you didn't make the World Championships. I was looking forward to seeing you compete."

Zaryanova looks skeptical. "You... follow weightlifting?"

"Deployment can get dull," Ana says honestly. "We all had our interests." She opts not to mention the depth of Reyes' feelings about synchronized diving. "I understand why you chose not to compete though. Priorities can be difficult."

Zaryanova wipes her hands off on her thighs, leaving thin traces of chalk behind. Ana bites her lip.

"I made the right decision," Zaryanova says confidently. "My country needed me."

"No argument here," Ana says. "Your country seems grateful. I've seen the posters."

Zaryanova frowns. "Posters?"

"Your face," Ana translates. "On buildings."

"Ah." A pleasant flush covers Zaryanova's face. "They were not my decision."

Ana wavers between two responses but throws caution to the wind and decides to be upfront. Worst case scenario: she gets a no. "I don't know," she says with a smile, "I can see how they would be... motivating."

Zaryanova raises her eyebrows. "Motivating?"

Ana doesn't quite twirl her hair around her finger but it's a close run thing. "You know. Inspirational. Good at making people want to be like you."

"Or be with me?"

Ana blinks, caught by surprise, and Zaryanova laughs. She keeps her voice low as she leans in, leans _down_ , and murmurs, "Come on, Captain. You don't expect me to believe you fell from the tower this morning."

"I- I lost my footing."

"Of course." There's a twinkle in Zaryanova's eyes as she straightens up. "There's a private weights room not far from here if you'd like to find it again."

Excitement flares in Ana's chest (and also further south) but she keeps her expression neutral as she asks, "A private room? Why work out here if you have your own facility?"

Zaryanova gives her a wink. "As you said. I can be inspirational." She scrubs a towel through her damp hair. "Do you wish to see the private facility, Captain Amari?"

Ana's face is still warm from embarrassment at having her flirting so easily detected but that doesn't keep her from nodding eagerly. "Lead the way, Sergeant. And call me Ana."

"Zarya," Zaryanova says, pulling a jacket on over her workout clothes and moving to the door. "Come, Ana. Let's do some training."

**+++**

"This isn't quite what I was picturing."

Zarya, still fully clothed, looks down at her with a frown. "You are uncomfortable?"

"No, very comfortable," Ana says honestly. "Just used to being in charge."

Zarya pauses. Ana's hands are still resting against hers, her wrists pressed together while Zarya wraps support tape halfway up to her elbow. The position forces her arms together in front of her body in a way that isn't painful but does make Ana hyper-conscious of how her bare breasts are pushed up and together. 

"We can do something else?" Zarya offers. Her thumb smoothes over the end of the tape, moving across to brush Ana's nipple, but despite the tease, her question seems genuine. "I do not want you to be uncomfortable."

Ana shakes her head, already taken by the pulse of arousal between her thighs. "No, I'm comfortable. Just surprised."

"What about a compromise?" Zarya says, leaning down until their lips are almost touching. "I put you where I want you but I only do what you want me to."

"Seems fair," Ana says, with more composure than she feels. She tilts her head up, brushing Zarya's lips with her own. "But you're wearing far too many clothes."

Zarya drops a featherlight kiss on Ana's lips before stepping back. "I should fix that."

Stripped down just to her underwear and some tape, Ana shivers at the loss of warmth from Zarya's body but feels herself start to heat up again as Zarya sheds her clothes. Her t-shirt goes first and Ana barely has time to appreciate the strong lines of her shoulders and the definition of her abs before her sports bra follows.

Zarya rests her hands on her hips, unabashed by Ana's blatant staring, and gives her a grin. "I take it you approve."

"Greatly," Ana says. She takes a step forward, slightly off-balance, and rests her hands against Zarya's abs as she asks, "Can I..."

Zarya gestures in agreement and Ana feels the sigh leave her when she lowers her mouth to Zarya's breasts. It's not much of a stretch -- she's just about the right height to run her tongue over the pink nubs of Zarya's nipples -- and she smiles at the feel of them hardening a little between her lips. Sweat still lingers on her skin from her workout and Ana laps at it eagerly, pressing her thighs together in impatience.

She whines a little when Zarya cups the back of her head, tugging her hair just enough to raise her lips for a kiss. Her breath is fresh, courtesy of a mint popped on the walk over, and Ana doesn't bother trying to take it slow as she curls her tongue against Zarya's.

After all, Zarya's already got her tied up and half naked. The time for playing coy is long past.

Zarya's hand moves down Ana's stomach, tapping her knuckles lightly against the front of Ana's underwear, and she trails kisses down Ana's bare neck as she says, "It won't be a long night, I'm sorry. I have training tomorrow."

"Un-Understood," Ana says, pushing forward against Zarya's hand. "I could use an early night too."

Zarya's hand moves lower, covering Ana easily through her underwear and pushing just hard enough to tease. They both made a pitstop in the bathroom for a quick clean-up after their work-out but the front of Ana's panties are starting to soak through with something other than sweat when Zarya asks, "Do you want mouth or just hands?"

"My mouth," Ana says firmly. She's not been fantasizing all day just to sit there and take it. "On you."

That seems to take Zarya by surprise. She steps back, scanning the room and settling on a padded bench beneath a barbell. "There."

Before Ana can reposition herself, Zarya's hands are on her thighs to lift her a couple of feet off the floor. She yelps, tipping forward against Zarya's body to keep her balance, and she feels the rumble of Zarya's laugh as she kisses her cheek. "Relax. I will keep you safe."

Ana doesn't doubt her for a second. She lets Zarya set her down, lying back on the bench with her arms held in front of her body, and turns her head to watch Zarya peel off her shorts and underwear. Her thighs are even more impressive without the covering of the shorts and when Zarya moves over to straddle the bench, Ana decides that suffocation wouldn't be a bad way to go.

"Is that okay?" Zarya asks from what seems like miles above her. 

It's one of the best views Ana's ever had, bracketed by thighs thicker than her head, looking up at the plane of Zarya's stomach and the swell of her breasts, and she lets her own thighs part as she squirms happily on the bench. 

"Perfect," Ana promises. She leans up, exploring Zarya's cunt with her tongue and getting used to the shape, smell and taste of her. Her hair tickles beneath Ana's nose, lighter than Ana was expecting, and she reminds herself from her wrestling days that Zarya's a natural blonde. 

With her arms bound, it's hard to coax Zarya down into place but she seems to get the message eventually. The weight takes a moment to adjust to and Ana breathes in through her nose as Zarya finally settles down to ride her face with the enthusiasm Ana rightly deserves.

There's surprised Russian cursing from above her when Ana gives her clit a firm suck. Zarya's thighs tremble beside her head and Ana lets her own legs part as warmth courses through her. This is always her favourite part: feeling people bigger and stronger than her fall to pieces under her hands (or mouth in this case), and she sucks again, more gently, as Zarya sighs. 

Zarya's hands are on her arms, lifting them to rest on the bar of the weights, but Ana's focus is on the task at hand, even as she hears the pull of the support tape again. She presses upwards as much as the position allows, sliding her tongue over the sensitive nub again and again and again until Zarya lets out a stifled moan. 

Not wanting this to be over too fast, she dips down, finding Zarya's entrance and teasing insistently as Zarya finishes taping her hands in place. The weights are far more than Ana can lift, even on her best day, and she buries her face in Zarya's cunt with a pleased sigh at the realisation that she's now trapped.

"Still all right?" Zarya asks again, resting a hand on her bound wrists. Ana's answer comes in the form of a pleased hum pressed directly against her clit and Zarya laughs as her thighs shiver again. "I'll take that as a yes."

She lifts up for a moment and Ana catches her breath. "A very strong one, yes."

Zarya is grinning as she dismounts. Ana stares up at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the thrum of the heating and her own breathing, but jerks when Zarya's hands come to rest on her thighs. Zarya's fingers slip under the band of Ana's underwear and she glances up at her. "I think it's time we got rid of these, yes?"

Ana nods, lifting her hips to let Zarya slide her underwear down her legs and off. The chill of the air between her legs is matched by the cooling wetness smeared from her chin to her nose and she licks her lips as she looks up at Zarya again. "Are you just planning to leave me here?"

"I thought snipers were supposed to be patient," Zarya says, grinning.

"This _is_ me being patient."

"We should work on that," Zarya says but, much to Ana's relief, she moves over to straddle her face again. "Another day."

Ana sends up a quick prayer of thanks as Zarya lowers herself back down. She's facing the opposite direction this time, giving her access to Ana's breasts, and Ana re-orientates herself as Zarya gives her tits a gentle squeeze. 

However, when she dips down to give Zarya's clit another firm suck, she gets an equally firm pinch to her nipples in return, coupled with the order, "Slow." 

Ana murmurs her agreement against Zarya's cunt and settles for slower passes with her tongue as Zarya moves above her. Her (huge, warm) hands slide between Ana's thighs and Ana sucks in a sharp breath when she feels Zarya's mouth on her. 

Despite the request to go slow, Zarya doesn't seem inclined to show any such restraint and Ana bucks her hips when Zarya closes her lips around her clit and flicks her tongue quickly over the surface. She feels Zarya's laughter travel through her whole body and she finds herself smiling in return as she tugs helplessly on the tape around her wrists. 

She is delighted to learn that Zarya takes the same approach to eating out women as she does to everything else: serious dedication and overwhelming competency. She's merciless, lapping eagerly at Ana's clit while tickling her fingers along her inner thighs, and Ana writhes beneath her as the pleasant pressure grows.

Unwilling to be outdone, Ana opts to fight fire with fire and returns her attentions to Zarya's entrance. It's slightly strange being in the opposite direction but she acclimatises quickly as she licks her open until she can't tell the difference between Zarya's wetness and her own drool. The feel of it coating her cheeks only spurs her on and she returns to Zarya's clit as she feels her own release inch closer.

Zarya's body blankets hers, impossibly solid and strong, and Ana has zero regrets about her embarrassing attempts at flirting when it got her this glorious result. Zarya's tongue is tireless as she works over her clit and Ana's thighs are shaking as she struggles to keep herself under control. 

Zarya lifts her head for a second and kisses her inner thigh as she asks, "Who comes first?"

Ana's libido provides one answer but her ego override it when she responds firmly, "You."

Zarya makes a noise Ana can't decipher before she continues, not slowing up at all. Ana gasps in surprise, closing her thighs as much as she can as she tries to stave off her orgasm. "I-"

Zarya stops right before she comes. 

Ana groans, breathing hard, and smiles against Zarya's cunt. "That was unnecessary."

She hears Zarya laugh, right before she straighen up enough to pinch Ana's nipples. "It was your choice." She taps one finger against Ana's clit, making her buck at the touch. "I'm waiting."

Twisting her wrists against the tape, Ana rises to the challenge. She closes her lips around Zarya's clit again and varies the suction as she works her tongue in small, quick circles. From the moan that escapes Zarya, it's a successful technique and Ana doubles down, determined to push her to the edge as quickly as possible. 

She feels Zarya's hands stutter as she toys with Ana's breasts and she scrapes her teeth over Zarya's clit to make her groan. Zarya's breathing gets shorter and Ana stretches up to add as much pressure to the contact as she can while she puts her tongue to work again. 

"There," Zarya gasps, as though Ana didn't already know what she was doing. "That's-"

She comes before she can finish. Ana works her through it, lapping at her clit until she feels the last of the tremors ebb, and she drops her head back to the bench as Zarya struggles for breath.

Ana doesn't bother to keep the pride out of her voice when she says, "I believe it's your turn?"

Zarya smiles and clambers off Ana. She gives her nipple another tweak as she passes and then settles between Ana's spread knees. She hooks Ana's legs over her broad shoulders and the visual alone is almost enough to get Ana over the edge, but when she buries her face between her thighs, Ana can't hold out much longer.

The pent-up pressure builds again in seconds under Zarya's ministrations and Ana arches up with a moan. Pinned in place by the restraints and Zarya's hands, there's no escape from Zarya's mouth and Ana yields to it gladly. The orgasm rips through her, pulling a cry from her lips, and she rides out the breathless waves of it under the steady slip of Zarya's tongue. 

She's sweating when she finally comes down and she's grateful for the tape around her arms which disguises how much her hands are shaking. It takes her a moment to realise Zarya has moved but then she's there beside her, gentle hands unwinding the tape from around Ana's wrists and helping her up to a sitting position. 

"That was-" Ana clears her throat. "Very refreshing."

Zarya walks across the room, unashamed of her nudity, and returns a moment later with two little paper cups of water. "Drink."

Ana accepts gratefully and sips it as Zarya downs hers. A calm silence engulfs them as Ana glances around to locate her clothes and weighs the merits of testing whether her legs function. 

Ever perceptive, Zarya seems to notice this and scoops up Ana's underwear, dangling it from one finger as she says, "I take it this was to your satisfaction, Captain Amari?"

Ana smirks at the use of the title but takes the offered underwear. Her legs are relatively stable when she stands and begins to dress, and she drinks in the sight of Zarya once more. "Very much so. I appreciate the use of your, uh, private facility, Sergeant Zaryanova."

Zarya goes for a second cup of water, rolling her shoulders as she walks. Ana temporarily forgets how to button her shirt. 

"How long are you stationed here for?" Zarya asks, glancing over her shoulder.

"Depends how much process the snipers make," Ana says. "I'd guess another week, at least."

Zarya nods and then looks Ana up and down in a way that almost makes her ready for a second round. (Almost. She's tired.) 

"I look forward to seeing you around," Zarya says and Ana has never been more thankful for her terrible flirting when Zarya adds, sincere as ever, "I hope we can find time for some more private training?"


End file.
